


Grown and Gone and Returned

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 02:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1840573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A reimbodied Celebrimbor encounters his grandmother Nerdanel for the first time since his return to Tirion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grown and Gone and Returned

He was not expecting to meet her there, and he almost did not recognise her with the headscarf she wore to hide her bright hair. The life of the main market square of Tirion bustled on around them as their eyes met, and Celebrimbor felt a stab of guilt; surely he should have arranged to meet with her before now.

At first he thought she was going to look away, to pretend she had not noticed him, or not recognised him;  _he had been but a child when she had seen him last, she would be entirely justified if she… no._  She was coming towards him, shouldering her way through the crowd. He felt a flicker of something that might almost have been apprehension.  _Or guilt._

“Tyelperinquar.” Nerdanel clasped his hands in her own, running her callused fingers over the balls of his thumbs for a moment.  _His own calluses from years of forge work had not yet returned. When he had been given a new body, he had found that his hands were smooth, the skin delicately pink, fragile._ He frowned a little, his old name still sounding strange, almost unfamiliar, like a tool that has been long out of use and no longer quite fits in the hand.

“Nerdanel” he blurted, suddenly extremely conscious of the strong accent to his speech. “Grandmother, I…”

She was staring at him, eyes searching every inch of his face, drinking in the sight of his features. She was silent for a moment, before tearing her eyes away. “I… forgive me, Tyelpë. You…” she took a deep breath, then smiled a smile that was full of pain, but joy too. “You grew up.” She tugged at her headscarf unconsciously. “Of course you grew up, that’s what boys do.” She hesitated for a moment. “You grew up to look just like him.”

Celebrimbor did not ask of whom she spoke.


End file.
